About

My friend Peter once told me a fable of a man packing his horse in which he is approached by a curious peasant. ‘Where are you going?’ the peasant asks, to which the concentrated traveler replies ‘away from here’. Dissatisfied with this answer, the peasant becoming ever more inquisitive and persistent, asks again ‘I see that, but to where are you going?’. Unfazed by the peasants line of questioning, the traveler intently packed his remaining possessions onto the horse and whispered ‘away from here’.

I like this story. I like it because it tells me about two different kinds of people, both of whom occupy space in me at different times. Often I want to know exactly to where it is I’m going. I think the certainty of this is something that we, as humans, crave; Maslow would certainly have us believe so. We like to know that there is an end, a goal, a destination, and some security along the way. However, sometimes we get so wrapped up in the end, that we fail to appreciate the path, the process, or the journey. In this instance and perhaps because our surrounding culture thinks in terms of ROI’s (return on investments), we place less currency on the means, and more on the ends. So it’s easy to identify with the peasant, and in that moment, the traveler stops us from getting ahead of ourselves.

Perhaps we try to identify with the traveler, but we find it difficult because our surrounding culture tells us that there’s a certain prescribed way to live. Why jeopardise the present? Wherein lies the sense in walking (or indeed riding) away from security into the relative uncertainty of an unknown tomorrow? If there is such a thing as ‘security’ in our present economic climate. Maybe choosing to ride my motorbike into the eastern horizon is me simply jumping before I’m pushed?

One of the privileges of living in the Western world is precisely that we have that choice. We can stay put, or, if like me we have no responsibilities of supporting anyone besides ourselves, we can opt out, knowing that ultimately we’ll still have food and shelter.

I suppose I’ve built this website for several reasons, one being to document this moment when the ‘traveler’ is the dominant archetype in me. Another is that I used to write a lot, when I felt that I had something to write about. In fact, I once had a blog which I enjoyed posting daily updates on and which, for some reason, had enough of a readership to encourage me to keep posting. That was during a 5 year tenure working in charity and as a vicar in London. Those were creative days. Since then I’ve spent 5 years working in business back in my homeland of northern Ireland and these days have not been so creative. My hope is that in deciding to pack up and take off and purge myself of the consumptive and corporate world, some creative synapses might start firing in the dusty corridors of my medial pre-frontal cortex.

You might say that this is a pilgrimage of sorts. I do not want to postpone dreams until retirement or allow the expectations of others to be a barrier to experiencing life under broad skies, sacrificial hospitality, dreams of making a difference in our world, or the rhythms of truth in foreign lands. And so awayfromhere.org is to help me crystallise my wonder as I stand on a threshold of discovery and (hopefully) gentle possibility. Of course, I hope that vicariously, the philosophical ridings, photos, video, and people present on it might provide some entertainment and moments to pause in your day as I work out the unfoldings of this specific journey, and perhaps the longer one if I choose to keep blogging again.

So, as I sit here nursing a glass of firewater from my local still (Bushmills), I’m having to contemplate…1. leaving my job 2. selling, giving, or throwing many of my possessions 3. renting my house (I hope) 4. getting some visas and changing some money 5. packing my motorbike with all that might be useful on the road 6. pointing pietro (long story, but the name an accomplice christened my bike with and which it shall henceforth be known) east towards Mongolia, and finally and most importantly, 7. saying cheers to many with whom I’ve had the privilege of sharing life with on this coast for the last 5 years…thanks for playing, and see you wherever it is that I land!

In essence, if we go with the flow of the fable and you’re standing in the shoes of the peasant, wondering, ‘where are you going‘, my answer, with not a little fear and trepidation is ‘away from here‘.

Tá súil mbainfidh tú taitneamh as an turas! (hoping you enjoy the journey).